Burned

Chapter 44

Lompa, or The Olympen Restaurant, to give it its proper name, was closed at the start of October 2006 for refurbishment and reopened the following year. Henning was a regular at Lompa before That Which He Doesn’t Think About. It was a great place to grab a bite to eat and a beer; unpretentious clientele and a friendly service.

The moment he enters, he realises that the atmosphere has changed. It is missing the magic ingredient that creates the buzz, the charming chaos, the relaxed crowd. If you remove that one ingredient from the recipe, the sauce will never be the same again. The place looks great after the renovation, but it’s not the same.

He finds Brogeland in the bar. He isn’t in uniform now. Bubbles sparkle in a shiny glass next to him. They shake hands.

‘Do you mind if we sit down?’ Henning says. ‘Preferably near the exit?’

He doesn’t feel like explaining why, so he makes up an excuse:

‘Standing up gives me backache.’

‘Of course.’

They go to an empty table by the window. They have a view of Gronlandsleiret. Cars zoom past. All of them appear to be silver. An effusive woman in a waitress’s uniform comes over to them.

‘Would you like to see the menu?’

‘No thank you. Just coffee, please.’

Brogeland gestures to indicate that he is happy with his effervescent drink. He follows the waitress with his eyes as she leaves and disappears behind the bar. When he turns around, the expression in his eyes has changed. He doesn’t say anything, he just gives Henning the ‘start talking’ look. Henning takes it as a sign that Brogeland has no interest in swapping life stories since the vacuum that arose between school and work.

He takes out the script and slams it on the table.

‘The text messages which Henriette Hagerup sent to Mahmoud Marhoni the night she was killed, they wouldn’t happen to look like these?’

He shows him the page with the first text message and studies Brogeland’s reaction. It’s not a difficult task. Brogeland recoils.

‘What the — ’

‘This screenplay was written by Henriette Hagerup and one of her fellow students.’

Henning shows him the next two text messages. Brogeland skims them.

‘But these are word for word. How did you get hold of them?’

‘Anette Skoppum,’ Henning says, pointing to her name on the cover. Brogeland leans forward. Henning continues: ‘The script tells the story of a woman who is stoned to death in a hole in the ground, in a tent on Ekeberg Common. At the end, an innocent man is jailed for her murder.’

‘Marhoni,’ Brogeland says, softly. Henning nods. He decides to share most of his thoughts and findings from the last few days. He holds a monologue that lasts almost five minutes. It is a deliberate strategy. Firstly, it is always good to discuss your ideas with someone. Your thoughts and opinions may change when you voice them. Writing sentences is similar: it may look fine on paper, but you never really know if a sentence works until you say it out loud.

Secondly, he wants Brogeland to owe him. Now that he is absolutely sure that Brogeland didn’t know about the script when he entered Lompa, Henning is owed at least one favour in return. It is the ultimate way to foster a relationship with a source.

‘Where is Anette now?’ Brogeland asks when Henning has finished.

‘Don’t know.’

‘We need to find her.’

‘I don’t think that’s going to be very easy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She knows Henriette was killed because of the script and, if I were Anette, I would be terrified of being the next person buried in that hole.’

‘You think she has gone into hiding?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

Brogeland doesn’t reply, but Henning can see that he agrees with him.

‘I’ll need to take that script with me.’

Henning is about to refuse, but he knows that would be obstructing an ongoing investigation. And that’s a criminal offence.

He would prefer not to have a criminal record.

‘If you could make me a copy, that would be great,’ he says.

‘I’ll do that. Bloody hell, Henning. This is — ’

He shakes his head.

‘I know. I bet Gjerstad’s eyes will pop out, when you pull this out at the next meeting.’

Brogeland smiles. Most people harbour negative feelings about their boss. It could be body odour, dress sense, accent or eating habits — trivial things, or simply the way they do their job. There are a lot of bad managers out there.

And a joke at the expense of Brogeland’s boss is an effective weapon for someone like Henning who is trying to build a relationship with a source — if the source responds to it, that is. The source might like his boss or might even be having an affair with the person in question. In other words, tread softly, take your time. But Henning is good at taking his time. And he can see that Brogeland gets an image of Gjerstad in his head.

Brogeland takes a sip of mineral water and coughs.

‘The day Henriette was killed,’ he says, putting his glass down, ‘Marhoni saw a photo that had been e-mailed to Henriette.’

Henning looks up at him.

‘A photo?’

‘Yes.’

‘What of?’

‘Of Hagerup and an unidentified man. They’re embracing each other.’

‘One of those “hi-great-to-see-you” hugs, or something more incriminating?’

‘A little more incriminating. It looks like she’s throwing herself at him.’

‘And you don’t know who he is?’

‘No. But he looks mature. Over forty.’

‘And this picture was e-mailed to Henriette?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who sent it?’

‘We don’t know. Not yet, anyway. The sender is an anonymous e-mail account. The computer it was sent from has an IP address belonging to an Internet cafe in Mozambique.’

Brogeland throws up his hands.

‘But Marhoni had a look at Henriette’s e-mails and he saw the picture?’

‘Yes. He denies it, but he has also stated that he’s the only person who uses his computer.’

‘And that was the only thing he looked at?’

Brogeland shakes his head.

‘He checked his own e-mails as well and he visited a couple of other websites that day. Nothing special or compromising.’

‘In the script, Merete asks Mona if she has “sorted out his computer”. Here, do you see?’

Brogeland can see it.

‘Yashid took a shower after they had had sex and that’s obviously when Mona did it. Sorted out his laptop.’

Brogeland nods and swallows the last of his mineral water. He puts the glass down with a bang and suppresses a burp discreetly.

‘Henriette might have done the same,’ he says eagerly. ‘She was with Marhoni the day she was killed. And there were clear signs that she had been given a good seeing to.’

‘I don’t know,’ Henning hesitates.

‘What is it?’

‘This would suggest that Henriette is doing this with her eyes open. That she deliberately goes to see Mahmoud, has it off with him, makes sure she fiddles with his computer while he’s not looking and goes out later that night to be stoned to death. That doesn’t make sense.’

Brogeland hesitates, then he nods.

‘No one willingly lets themselves be stoned to death, no matter how messed up they might be,’ Henning continues. ‘I can’t imagine that Henriette would do something like this to get a message across. The film was supposed to be her message. It might be a coincidence that she checked her mail that very day. At Marhoni’s. Or, somebody wanted her to do it, to make it look bad for Marhoni. What do her phone records show around the time in question?’

‘We haven’t managed to cross-reference the records yet, but she probably made some calls.’

Henning explains there is no mention of a flogging, a stun gun and a severed hand in the script. Brogeland digests it all.

‘How do you know all that? That information hasn’t been released to the press yet.’

Henning smiles.

‘Oh, come on, Bjarne.’

‘Gjerstad is furious because someone’s leaking to NRK.’

‘And it wasn’t you?’

‘Dear Lord, no.’

‘And it wasn’t that blonde you can’t keep your eyes off?’

‘Out of the question.’

Then Brogeland realises what Henning has said.

‘What do you — ’

‘We never reveal our sources,’ Henning says. ‘You know that. I’ll never disclose your identity, either. Likewise, I expect you to keep my name out of this.’

‘I can’t promise that.’

‘Is that right? I’ve no intention of wasting the next few days in an interview room at the police station. If you want my continued co-operation, I’m prepared to talk to you and no one else. Okay?’

Brogeland debates this. Up until now, Henning has viewed him with the same suspicious eyes as when he was a child. This might be about to change.

‘Okay.’

‘Good. Tariq, incidentally, also features in the script,’ Henning continues. ‘But he plays only a minor role.’

‘He doesn’t get killed?’

‘No.’

‘So someone is taking liberties with the script.’

‘Yes, or they’re adapting it. Or making sure that anyone who knows what happened is removed.’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think there must be more than one killer.’

‘Why?’

‘You think Yasser Shah killed Henriette Hagerup and Tariq Marhoni? That doesn’t sound likely.’

‘He might have killed them both to hurt Mahmoud?’

‘Possibly, but I’m not buying it. Why go to so much trouble to kill Henriette, when two shots to the chest and one to the head does exactly the same job for Tariq?’

‘Perhaps Tariq knew who the killer was? What if he was killed as part of a clean-up operation?’

‘In which case, Tariq knew a lot more than we first assumed. It also means that both he and his brother were mixed up in something nasty.’

‘Tariq didn’t strike me as the type. He took photographs. Besides, he seemed like a decent guy.’

‘Well, you would know better than I. After all, you interviewed him just before he was killed.’

‘Yes, and I don’t remember him saying anything which might suggest that someone would want to silence him. But he was reluctant to tell me what his brother did for a living and that struck me as a little odd.’

‘Precisely.’

‘And you haven’t found Yasser Shah yet?’

‘No. He’s not at home, not at work or in any of the places he usually hangs out, nor has there been any activity on his credit card in the last few days. He hasn’t crossed any borders, either.’

‘Do you think he’s still alive?’

‘Are you saying someone might have killed him?’

‘Yes. It’s not improbable, given that I identified him and you’re looking for him. Yasser Shah was, as far as I could tell from his criminal record, a small fish. He only had petty crime convictions. His disappearance suggests he was paid for the hit or that someone ordered him to do it. And if that someone is trying to cover their tracks, then Shah is potentially a huge problem. He knows too much. He might even know why Hagerup and Tariq were killed.’

‘Yes, but gangs look after their members. They’re prepared to keep their people hidden, if they get into trouble.’

‘Perhaps. But do you think they’re ready to run that big a risk? We’re talking about a murder here.’

‘Possibly. I don’t know a lot about BBB. They came to our attention after I finished working as a plain-clothes officer, after Operation Gangbuster was set up.’

Henning ponders this for a while. The more he bats the arguments back and forth, the more he agrees with Brogeland. The murder of Tariq is unrelated to the murder of Henriette Hagerup. Tariq was collateral damage. He was no player. All he did was take photographs.

Then a thought occurs to him. And after that first one, the ideas start to flood in: Tariq Marhoni was killed to send a message to Mahmoud. That’s why Mahmoud isn’t talking, that’s why he set fire to his laptop. There is something on his computer which implicates other people. People who are prepared to kill to keep that information hidden. And Henning doesn’t think for one moment that information is a picture of Henriette hugging an unidentified man.

He shares his thoughts with Brogeland, who is silent for a long time. When he does start talking again, he does so quietly. And he is very serious:

‘If what you’re saying is true, we need to put the pressure on BBB. And this will have consequences for you, Henning,’ he says, boring his eyes into him. ‘You’ll need to tread carefully from now on.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If these guys are anything like the other gangs operating in Oslo, then we’re talking about hardcore bastards. They’ve no conscience. If you’re the only person who can put Yasser Shah on the crime scene, you are — in their eyes — a dead man. Like I said, they look out for each other. But worse, you have helped aim a spotlight on them and their activities, which could ruin their source of income. Or reduce it significantly. These guys are very concerned about profit. Mix it all together and you have a lethal cocktail.’

‘You’re saying they want me dead?’

Brogeland looks at him gravely.

‘There’s a good chance, certainly.’

‘Perhaps,’ Henning says and looks out of the window. A man is smoking across the street. Henning looks at him. The man looks at Henning. For a long time.

He considers what Brogeland has said. Henning’s face is plastered all over today’s newspapers. It won’t take long to find out where he works, where he lives or get to his relatives.

Damn, he says to himself.

Mum.